


Alive

by LilyThistle



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Office Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25089193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyThistle/pseuds/LilyThistle
Summary: Jane knew he should stop Lisbon, stop himself, pull away, maybe finally utter that long overdue apology because they would regret this in the morning, there was no other possible outcome, but Lisbon was right in front of him with barely any space left between them, so close he could feel her breath against his throat, leaving tiny goosebumps in its wake. Maybe if he just touched her carefully, maybe if he acted as if he just wanted to make sure she was all right, it would be enough to satisfy them both. He knew he was lying to himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop once he had started, but he still raised his left hand and stroked softly down her right, uninjured side.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 14
Kudos: 127





	Alive

**Author's Note:**

> So anyway, I reblogged an ask game on Tumblr that asked for the first line to a fanfic so I could write a couple of sentences (no pressure), and the first one I got was "The touch was accidental, Patrick froze and his mind went wild..." and I did only write seven sentences at first, but then I couldn't let it go and it turned into this.
> 
> Yes, it's exactly what it looks like, hence the rating (it's really just PWP, you have been warned).

“Could you pass me the disinfectant, please?" Lisbon asked casually, extending a hand toward Jane.

He hurried to comply with her request, almost tripping over his own feet. "Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" he asked for what he was sure was the millionth time this evening.

Lisbon breathed in sharply when the disinfectant touched the wound on her left side. It wasn't bad, it was barely a cut, but seeing her hurt like this, seeing her skin damaged, dried blood mixing with snow white, made Jane furious. He wanted to cause the man who had done this to her immeasurable pain, wanted him to feel what he was feeling because, by hurting Lisbon, he had made an enemy for life. The man in question, the one who was responsible for the state Lisbon was in, was currently only an elevator ride away in a holding cell. As soon as Jane had made sure Lisbon was all right, he would go to him and make his life a living hell.

"Jane, the band aid," Lisbon said in a voice that sounded as if it wasn't the first time she had asked him for one.

"Sorry," he mumbled and complied with her request immediately.

She pulled open the packaging while her shirt was tugged between her teeth, firmly secured so it wouldn't get in the way. Jane thought about offering his help, but he kept his distance, his eyes firmly locked on the exposed skin of her stomach, hating himself for not taking better care of Lisbon and for thinking how much he wanted to take off her shirt completely, touch her stomach, her arms, her sides, stroke her skin, make sure she was okay, that she wasn't hurt anywhere else. This was neither the place nor the time to think such thoughts.

"A little help?" Lisbon asked, when she realized she couldn't bend all the way to apply the band aid.

Jane's eyes flickered up to her face. "Yeah," he answered.

He stepped closer to her, taking the band aid from her, then lowered himself until his eyes were at the same level as her wound. It really didn't look so bad, but the red gape, almost in the shape of a smile, would leave a small scar, which would serve as a reminder to Jane of his own negligence for the rest of their lives. Carefully, he applied the band aid, paying attention to Lisbon's breathing to make sure he didn't hurt her even more. When he was content with his work, he let his hands drop, but miscalculated the distance to Lisbon's skin, which resulted in his finger brushing down her side, all the way from her rib cage to the waistband of her trousers.

The touch was accidental, but Jane froze, and his mind went wild. The feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingertips was sending all kinds of conflicting signals to his brain, from the urge to draw back his hand as if he had burned himself on a hot plate to an itch to tighten his grip on her and pull her close. It didn't help that he could hear Lisbon's breath hitch, could see her stomach draw back, could feel the fabric of her shirt being lowered, and he cursed himself for having touched her like this and having enjoyed it. He wanted to apologize to Lisbon, tell her he hadn’t meant to touch her _there_ , assure her she didn't need to put up her guard around him because he would never take advantage of her like that, so he pulled himself up, the apology already on his lips, his eyes seeking out hers.

But then he saw the look on her face.

Lisbon wasn’t angry, she wasn’t even startled or confused; instead, she pressed herself closer to him, bridging the space he had opened up just moments ago, until he could feel the warmth of her body, could see the flutter of her heartbeat making the skin of her throat dance. Her pupils were blown wide, her eyes were dark with lust, her cheeks red with desire; she was biting her bottom lip as her gaze flickered to his mouth.

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply. His resolve to apologize had vanished just as fast as the donuts vanished from the kitchen when Rigsby was around.

It was late, they were both tired and overstimulated and hyped up from the case and the chase through the darkness, which had resulted in Lisbon almost getting shot and had led to her being stabbed, and the residue of adrenaline made it impossible for either of them to think straight. Jane knew Lisbon wouldn't be acting like this if she hadn't almost died tonight, he knew that people going through a near-death experience often did stupid things to assure themselves they were still alive, to feel life coursing through their veins, to feel the rush of finally letting go and embracing all the opportunities they had missed. For some, it was bungee jumping, for others it was running that marathon they had been putting off for years. For Lisbon, it was sex. And Jane also knew there was nothing more dangerous than giving into that urge in a situation like this because, yes, it made you feel wanted and alive and cared for at first, but then it filled you with regret, so much of it that it had been known to ruin relationships and friendships and family ties.

And even though Jane hadn't almost died tonight, he had come very close to losing Lisbon, the most important person in his life, and the shock of that was still lodged deeply in his abdomen, making him shiver whenever he thought about it. It was an explosive mixture, her need to feel alive and his need to care for her, to finally take what he had wanted for such a long time, using the vulnerable state she was in for his own pleasure, especially now that she was offering herself to him on a silver platter. If they went through with this, he wasn't sure their friendship would survive it. She would end up hating him and he would end up hating himself. It was too high a price to pay.

Jane knew he should stop Lisbon, stop himself, pull away, maybe finally utter that long overdue apology because they would regret this in the morning, there was no other possible outcome, but Lisbon was right in front of him with barely any space left between them, so close he could feel her breath against his throat, leaving tiny goosebumps in its wake. Maybe if he just touched her carefully, maybe if he acted as if he just wanted to make sure she was all right, it would be enough to satisfy them both. He knew he was lying to himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop once he started, but he still raised his left hand and stroked softly down her right, uninjured side.

 _You’re a weak man, Patrick Jane_ , he thought.

Lisbon's breath hitched and her eyes fluttered shut briefly, so Jane repeated the motion, then moved on to the bare skin of her arm, lightly scraping his nails from her shoulder all the way down to her wrist. He did it slowly, savoring it, savoring Lisbon's reaction. Her eyes were closed, her breath was ragged, and he knew it was just because she was still alive that this felt so much more intense than it usually would. Once he had reached her wrist, he moved his hand back up again. When he reached her elbow, Lisbon's eyes flew open. They were so dark that Jane couldn't help but be reminded of a cat fixating its prey and heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, rising up his chest to his face. It was obvious to him now that he had made a mistake. There was no way he would be satisfied with keeping this a casual, caring touch. And neither would Lisbon.

They didn't break eye contact until Jane reached Lisbon's shoulder again and the higher his hand moved, the more pressure he applied until his touch left red marks in its wake. He could see Lisbon swallow, saw her mouth drop open as a small moan escaped her lips. And that was the moment he knew there was no turning back. Lisbon could feel it too, could see how much he wanted this, no matter the consequences – if they hated themselves and each other in the morning, so be it; all that counted now was to make each other feel cared for and wanted ... and _alive_.

Jane's hand started its journey back down Lisbon's arm again, but she interrupted him by raising her own hands, and slowly pushed his jacket off his shoulders. It fell to the floor with an almost inaudible thud, the first sound apart from Lisbon's breathing Jane was conscious of in a long time. As she moved on to unbutton his vest, he lowered his hand and let his fingers skim over the hem of her shirt, desperate to touch the bare skin of her stomach again, but wanting to draw out the moment as long as possible until they were both craving the contact. He could feel Lisbon's hands tremble against his chest when he gripped the fabric of her shirt. Then her eyes darted to her hands when she couldn't locate the last button and Jane took this opportunity to raise her shirt slightly and push his hand inside with determination.

They both groaned when his hand touched the soft skin of her stomach. It was pure bliss – it brought them some of the relief they had been craving while, at the same time, only making everything feel more intense, making every touch feel as if it wasn't enough. Jane let his fingers roam across Lisbon's skin, teasingly stroking her stomach, while she gripped his arms and pressed her forehead into his chest. He could feel her breath through the thin fabric of his shirt, like the ghost of a promise of what was to come. He could also feel her racing pulse under his fingertips, the feeling of her so alive driving him crazy, making it almost impossible for him to hold back. He growled and bent his head, biting the soft skin of her neck.

The sensation made them both freeze. Jane had touched Lisbon's skin before with his hands but never with his lips or teeth; for a moment he was afraid she had changed her mind, would tell him to stop and push him away, but he was already in too deep. He knew he had to taste her skin again, needed it more than he needed air, so he didn't wait for her to take the next step, but sucked the soft skin of her neck into his mouth, worrying it between his teeth, then biting down hard. Lisbon moaned so loudly he could feel it vibrate in her chest.

He raised a hand and clasped it over her mouth, whispering, "Shhhh."

As a response, she pushed him away and began working on the buttons of his shirt. Jane watched her at first, observing how her quick fingers exposed more and more skin, but then he decided she was taking too long and joined her, working his way up from the bottom. Their movements were urgent now, accompanied by pants and gasps.

Finally, Jane's shirt and vest joined his jacket on the floor and Lisbon got what she wanted. Her eyes and hands roamed across Jane's chest and stomach, making his skin tingle and burn as if her fingers were coated in acid. He let her touch him wherever she wanted; after all, she had allowed him to do the same earlier, but his eyes kept flickering to the buttons of her trousers, to the hem of her shirt, and he thought it wasn't really fair she got to see him like this while she was still fully dressed.

Jane's fingers popped open the button of Lisbon's trousers, then stopped at the zipper. All the while his eyes were on hers, searching for permission or denial in her features. To his relief, she nodded once, her nails scraping the skin of his chest eagerly as he continued slowly, his knuckles brushing along the soft fabric of her underwear as he finally pulled down the zipper. The look in her eyes was so intense he had to stop before pulling her trousers all the way down. Instead, he pulled her close, one hand digging into her hip, the other tangled in her hair.

Later, he didn't remember if she had closed the distance between them or if he had taken the final step, but when her lips touched his, it didn't matter. All that mattered was her taste in his mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste him in turn, and it turned him on more than any touch or glance they had exchanged this evening, had exchanged in all those years they had known each other. Hungrily, he pulled her closer until she was pressed against him, urging him on with licks and bites and moans and he deepened the kiss until they were both panting, both dizzy with the discovery of what it was like to finally kiss each other. For Jane, it was the most intense sensation he had felt in years, the most alive he had felt since one faithful night many years ago that had almost broken him.

Jane finally broke the kiss and dropped to his knees, pulling Lisbon's trousers with him. She struggled briefly, then freed herself from both her shoes and trousers. Jane had expected her to become self-conscious as soon as her skin was exposed, but she just waited for him to continue, one hand tangled in his hair. There were so many things he wanted to do next, he couldn't decide on just one, so to buy himself some time, he covered her thighs with kisses, marveling at the softness of her skin, enjoying whenever her breath hitched when he came close to the hem of her underwear. She pulled his hair, urging him on, and it set him on fire, made him flare up with passion, her want the oxygen that kept his flame alive. He finally nuzzled the spot between her legs, breathing in her scent, feeling the heat radiating from where she wanted him to touch her most, only the flimsy fabric of her underwear between his mouth and what she was offering to him.

He paused to look up at her, expecting her to look desperately disheveled, but what he saw made him pause briefly. Yes, she was still looking at him with heat in her gaze that urged him on, but there was also trust there. She trusted him to take care of her and it filled him with so much warmth that he pressed a soft his to her abdomen and whispered into her skin, "Let me take care of you."

It was the first sentence he had spoken in a while and his voice was raw. He could feel Lisbon shiver beneath his touch, then heard her reply, "Yes."

It was all the confirmation he needed. He slowly started to pull down her underwear, followed it with soft kisses down her left leg, lifted one foot after the other to help her step out of it and then kissed his way up again until Lisbon was panting and shivering in anticipation. He had forgotten how good it felt to do this to a woman, and for that woman anticipating his touch to be Lisbon was something he hadn't dared to imagine in his wildest dreams. He finally reached the top of Lisbon's leg again and kissed his was across her pubic mound to the other side, which earned him a carnal growl. She was getting impatient, so he softly stroked her lower back to tell her to calm down. She refused to take the hint and tightened the grip in his hair.

Jane knew this wasn't what Lisbon had expected to happen between them tonight, he knew she would have preferred it rough and fast to prove to herself she was still alive. But Jane didn't want this to be over too quickly, maybe not at all, and he was determined to make love to her like no one had before, even if it meant she pulled out half his curls in the process because of her impatience. He knew what she wanted but he also knew what she needed, and he would walk the thin line between wild, frenzied passion and soft, caring touches like a man on a tightrope with no safety net beneath him. He pressed a kiss to her navel, then to her abdomen, then started to trail lower and lower until he could smell her, could feel the heat radiating from her, telling him how much she wanted this, needed this.

He finally flicked out his tongue and tasted her, but his moan at the sensation was drowned out by Lisbon's gasp. Her hips jerked forward at the feeling of Jane's mouth on her, and he had to use both his hands to grip her backside to keep her in place. She used her hand in his hair to tell him what she needed, tightening her grip when she wanted him to go faster, releasing him when she was content with the pace. But Jane could tell it wasn't enough yet, so he used his right hand to push her thighs apart, teased her briefly, and then buried two fingers inside of her. He bit his lip when he felt how wet she was, how much she wanted him, and it was almost enough to make him lose control. She clenched around his fingers and for the first time he allowed himself to selfishly think about himself and what it would feel like if another part of his body were to replace his fingers. But before he could contemplate this, the grip in his hair tightened again, so he licked her faster, matching the pace of his tongue to the pace of his fingers until Lisbon's legs were quivering and her breath was coming in short, hot gasps that urged him on.

Yet, it still wasn't enough, for either of them. He knew she wouldn't get the release she was chasing like this and he needed to be closer to her, needed to hold her when she came, and there was really only one way to achieve this. He allowed his fingers to thrust up into her a few more times, his tongue to savor her taste, before pulling out of her and standing up.

Lisbon looked at him with so much betrayal in her eyes it made him laugh. He grabbed her waist and carefully made her take a couple of steps back, making sure she wouldn't trip over the pile of clothes on the floor, until her backside connected with her desk. When she realized what Jane was planning to do, her eyes went wide and she turned around to clear some space, pushing pens and files and used coffee cups around, until she was satisfied.

If it had been a different situation, Jane would have teased her for being so eager, but it turned him on so much to see her like this, determined, sure of what she wanted, with an edge of desperation to her actions he hadn’t thought her capable of. She turned back to Jane, and he pulled her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, so she was finally completely naked.

He allowed himself a brief pause to let his eyes roam across her body. There was an angry red mark on her neck where he had bitten her earlier, her hair was disheveled and slick with sweat, and she was still trembling, panting, looking at him with her chin pushed forward as if she was challenging him. And he was determined to give her what she was after, so he kicked off his shoes and got to work on his belt buckle. Lisbon, however, had other plans. She pushed his hands away and did it herself, biting her bottom lip in concentration and determination. Where Jane had taken his time, she rushed through the motions, pulling down his trousers and underwear at the same time.

Lisbon could finally see proof of how much he wanted her, and her reaction was to pull him close again and kiss him deeply, to moan against his lips, to move them both backwards until she was at the desk again, pushing herself up until she was sitting on it, her legs spread, waiting for Jane to take the final step. And this time he didn't make her wait for it, didn't tease her, mostly because he needed release just as much as she needed it, so he grabbed hold of her thighs and buried himself deep inside of her with a low moan while she held onto him, one hand gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, the other stroking his back reassuringly. And then it hit him that this wasn't just about him taking care of her, but also about her taking care of him, and the realization was the last thing he had needed to convince him to let go.

He set a slow pace at first, the pens on Lisbon's desk rattling with every thrust of his hips, while Lisbon held on tightly to him, her legs wrapped around his waist. Lisbon's head was buried between his neck and shoulder and he heard her breathy moans that slowly turned into small whimpers, which made him slow down, worried he was hurting her.

But then she said, her voice raspy and entirely un-Lisbon-like, "Faster, Jane, please."

Jane decided to give her what she wanted, what she had wanted ever since he had touched her skin so carelessly. He gripped her waist to hold her in place, then began to move his hips fast, with determination, and then he finally felt her clench around him like she had clenched around his fingers. It was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he forced himself to hold on just a little longer. Lisbon's whimpers were turning into moans of, "Yes, Jane, like that," and he increased the pace, not even stopping when he heard a coffee cup hit the floor and burst into a hundred pieces. Lisbon's nails were scraping along his back, adding more gasoline to the fire burning inside of him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

There was one thing he needed, just one, and he knew he would be able to go on living even if Lisbon would hate him tomorrow morning. He lowered his head to Lisbon's ear so he wouldn't have to see her reaction should she refuse him, and whispered, "Look at me. I want to see you when you come."

Lisbon stifled the moan this elicited from her by biting down on Jane's shoulder and clenching around him tighter than before, the movement of her hips now matching his thrusts. Then she leaned back until he could see her face and locked her eyes to his. It felt more intimate than anything they had done up to that point because she trusted him to see her when she was at her most vulnerable, her most desperate. Jane was sure she usually didn't allow anyone to see her like this and gripped her even tighter, desperate now for release.

Lisbon came first, almost silently, biting her lip to trap the moans of pleasure in her throat while not breaking eye contact; she didn't even blink. The feeling of her clenching around him over and over again would have been enough to finish him off, but her eyes buried deep inside his own was what finally pushed him over the edge. As soon as she could feel his orgasm taking over his body, Lisbon raised a hand and softly touched his cheek, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Then he collapsed on top of her, holding onto her for dear life, while she stroked his back and whispered, "It's okay, Patrick, I'm here."

Once he had caught his breath, he slowly pulled out of her, then stroked her cheeks, her back, her arms, her sides. His thumb brushed against the band aid and he suddenly remembered why they were here in the first place. He felt anger flare up again and Lisbon must have seen it or felt it, because she grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her and said, "I'm fine, trust me."

"You could've died," he said hoarsely, then kissed her roughly, possessively.

Lisbon held him back. "But I didn't," she reminded him. "I'm alive."

Jane stepped away from her so she could climb off the table, then handed her a tissue so she could clean herself up.

"I'm going to take you home," he decided. "Just tonight. I want to make sure you get there safely."

"Hm," Lisbon made, tossing the tissue into the wastebasket, then picked up her clothes so she could get dressed. "Only if you stay the night."

Hearing her say this gave him hope she wouldn’t hate him after all. They had both gotten what they wanted, and still she was asking more of him, was trying to keep him as close to her as possible. He decided it would be all right to tease her just once tonight to hide his relief and his eagerness to stay with her.

"Why? Still not satisfied?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lisbon, now fully dressed, pulled him close. "Not by a long shot," she admitted and kissed him.


End file.
